A strangely,
almost disturbingly mixed Prom. Strange in
the sense that a first half with an immense
amount to recommend it could be so closely
followed by an account of Shostakovich’s Fifth
Symphony that was lacking on so many levels.

It was
a good idea to begin the concert with a Dvorák
symphonic poem, The Water Goblin (1896).
Not exactly everyday fare, although Noseda
and his band provided as good a case as any
that it should be. The story is hardly the
happiest - a water goblin captures a maiden
who, through continued entreaty, secured a
home visit to see her mother. A refusal to
return leads to the daughter’s baby being
left outside the door, dead and headless.

Dvorák
treats this happy tale with obvious relish,
and it was a treat to hear the BBC Philharmonic
paint the story in such vivid colours, from
Dvorákian angst to tender, gossamer-thin
textures. Highlights were the oboe solos and
a sorrowful cello melody later on, supported
by dark colours on low brass. It was an excellent
opener, only marred by some occasionally weak-sounding
violins.

Most
people, I imagine, had come to see and hear
(both are pleasurable) the soprano Anna Netrebko,
current star of the DG firmament. The Prom
coincided nicely with the release of Netrebko’s
new ‘álbum’, Sempre libera (September
13); the link with Noseda was made by the
fact her debut disc of last year was made
with Noseda at the helm.

How
wonderful to find that all the fuss is justified
for once. She began her bouquet of arias with
more Dvorák, the ‘Song to the moon’
from Rusalka (1901). Netrebko’s attack
was stunning, spot-on always, her ability
to float notes magical. Slurs were miraculous,
and if anything the BBC Philharmonic played
even better than in the symphonic poem.

Her
Czech was excellent (her hacek-ed ‘r’s fine
- at least, text-book for the second one,
perhaps a little restrained for the first):
her unhacek-ed (almost as difficult if set
in the midst of a thicket of consonants) even
more impressive.

Netrebko
is a young lady, so the choice of Musetta’s
Waltz Song from Puccini’s La bohème
was a good one. Netrebko had ended the Dvorák
with a sterling high note. More of the same
was to make this Puccini outstanding (along
with a lovely half-voice at ‘E ti struggi
da me tanto rifuggi’.)

A chamber
music-like Intermezzo from Manon Lescaut
from the orchestra, kept flowing by Noseda
yet with strings incapable of the burnished
tones required for the big outpouring, separated
the final vocal items. The Mad Scene from
Bellini’s I puritani (1834/5) closed
Netrebko’s set. If the typically Bellinian
flute melodies sounded a little trite after
the Puccini, one soon adjusted to Bellini
on his own terms. Netrebko’s scalic work was
breathtaking, her legato velvety, and she
showed she has a formidable low range, too.
She is a star already, of that there is no
doubt. The fact she is young means there is
plenty to look forward to. How refreshing
to be able to write about someone whose sterling
technique serves a natural, intelligent musicality.
How rare.

Maybe
the BBC Philharmonic thought the Prom effectively
ended there. Or maybe Noseda just doesn’t
do Shostakovich. Whatever the reason,
this was one of the most misguided, lacklustre
Shostakovich performances it has ever been
my misfortune to hear. The introduction was
fast (yet it has to be said determined.) Perhaps,
I thought, this gritty focus was to be the
mainstay of the interpretation. No, in hindsight
it was just rushed, perhaps to hide the fact
the strings needed more depth for this music.
The first violins, it emerged, could not (or
perhaps would not) do emaciated for the long,
slow melody. Later, low horns and piano were
almost unbelievably under-powered. Parody
was merely hinted at (if that), and the big
unison string climax was ineffectual because
of Noseda’s inability to prepare for it by
respecting the larger canvas.

Similar
lack of grit characterised the ‘Állegretto’.
Noseda proved he can flail with the worst
of them when he conducted this movement, an
allegretto notable only for a few orchestral
niceties (great solo violin). Nice to hear
the strings had rehearsed the slow movement.
Indeed, there were many felicities, but none
of the sense of embarking on a great journey
one encounters in, say, Bernstein’s accounts.
A double shame, therefore, that a true pianissimo
was marred by an electronic ring-tone. But
the climax was ineffectual because of Noseda’s
continuing inability to see the wood for the
trees.

The
finale set forth more of Noseda’s repertoire
of disappointments, including soft-toned timpani
at the opening (!) and a dynamically challenged
climax that rendered the horn’s balm thereafter
completely ineffectual. This lack of long-range
vision also, by the way, led to a hopeless
structural ‘sag’ in the middle. The ending
had no chance, whichever way one guessed Noseda
saw it.

I was
first out of the concert hall.

The
best thing by far about this Shostakovich
Fifth was David Gutman’s exemplary programme
notes. We could effectively have read these,
dispensed with the performance altogether,
and we would have gone home happier.

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